


The Sock Index

by whatswithmegan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Common Cold, Gen, Helpful Sherlock, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatswithmegan/pseuds/whatswithmegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hedgehog-in-the-tardis requested: Sherlock attempting to take care of a sick John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sock Index

The common cold, complete with symptoms of nasal congestion, sneezing, headache and sore throat. It had been nearly 3 days, and John was done. He was sick of being sick. And Sherlock wasn't doing anything to help, continuing with his strange experiments through daylight hours and playing his violin through the night.

“Sherlock...” John grumbled from his bed. “Sherlock...”

The detective paused, halfway through a note on the Stradivarius and set it down gently, holding the bow in hand as he went to John's room. “Were you calling for me, or are you just trying to offset my composition?”

John rolled his eyes, dabbing a tissue to his nose. “I'm bothering you?” he growled gently, his voice too sore to do much else. “It's three in the damn morning, I need to sleep.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “You're body is just -”

“A vessel,” John finished, “Yes, yours may very well be a vessel, but I rather enjoy mine as it is, and right now, it needs sleep. _I_ need sleep.” he corrected. “Just for a few hours, I've been up all day listening to your grumbling about experiments.” Sherlock opened his mouth, about to debate John, but John shook his head, “Please, Sherlock, just a few hours, okay? You can be as loud as you want in 6 hours. Can you wait that long?”

There was a pause before Sherlock nodded, “Alright, fine, yes. 10am.” he said stiffly, shutting John's door behind him as he left.

-

T0 John's surprise, Sherlock did stay quiet the entire time he had requested, only starting to hear feet shuffling past his door at around 9:40. He slept through Sherlock walking around, struggling a bit as he began to heat up something – probably for an experiment. But as 10am sharp, there was a knock at his door. “Yes, you can make noise now, it's fine.” he called out, too tired to get up. But Sherlock knocked again. “What?” he groaned, rolling over to face the door as Sherlock entered, holding a tray. John's eyes widened in delight as he saw two slices of toast with strawberry jam, a bottle of ibuprofen for his headache and a cup of hot earl gray tea. “Sherlock...” John whispered.

Sherlock gave a warm smile, sitting down with the tray near John's legs. “I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleeping patterns.” Sherlock mumbled, watching John lift himself to a sitting position. “I understand that illness is not at the top of my list of priorities, and I should have known that sooner. You need someone to care for you.”

John sighed, “I don't need you to take care of me...” he grumbled, somewhat embarrassed as he picked up the cup of tea, blowing on it lightly.

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed John's forehead, too warm, he noted. “And that's why I _want_ to take care of you.” he smiled, brushing short blond hairs off of John's forehead as he drank. “I want you to ' _get well'_.” he struggled to say the words, feeling too insincere on his tongue. But John smiled just the same.

“Thank you.” he said, looking up at Sherlock with a slight blush on his cheeks. “This was very nice of you, and I know you're itching to get -”

Sherlock kissed John's forehead again, “Yes, oh, god, thank you, I have socks I need to look over!” he gave John another sloppy kiss before rushing from the room.

“Socks?” John called out after him, hearing only a faint, 'Obviously!' from the kitchen. He smiled to himself, admiring the breakfast before him.


End file.
